


Overexertion

by fucker



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucker/pseuds/fucker
Summary: There's something so rewarding about finishing a hard workout.
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24
Collections: Nevactacus





	Overexertion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adrianna_m_scovill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/gifts).



> An anonymous gift for [adrianna_m_scovill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill) 🤫

"You're staring."

Caractacus abandoned the project he'd been pretending to tinker with and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and chin in his hands. "You love the attention."

"'S distracting."

"Hmm, preaching to the choir."

Nevada pulled himself upright for the twenty-sixth time— not that Caractacus was counting— and raised a single eyebrow at him before lowering his shoulders back down to the floor. He finished off his set of sit-ups in easy silence, then shook the mussed hair off of his forehead and stretched. "You gonna come do something about it?"

Normally Caractacus would've scrambled to find something to busy himself with to hide his embarrassment, but that invitation was too good to turn down. Slightly pink in the cheeks, he stood, wandered as nonchalantly as he could manage over to where Nevada was rearranging himself on the floor, and flopped down in front of him, face-to-face. 

The view was worth appreciating; a half-naked, slightly sweaty Nevada on his hands and knees, the powerful muscles in his back and shoulders flexing as he transferred his weight to his palms, locked his elbows and shifted from side to side, testing the position. Caractacus was fully aware that this was more of Nevada's alpha male bullshit, but at the same time he was unable to deny the effect that it was having on his body— face and neck flushed, heart rate slightly elevated, boxers a hair tighter than usual— which only made the fact that it was doing something for him that much more frustrating. 

Nevada, by no means oblivious to Caractacus's state of mixed interest, fascination, and mild arousal, shot him a cocky wink and bent both arms at the elbow, effortlessly lowering his chest to the floor with surprising grace. He held the position for a slow count of three, drew in a long, slow breath, then straightened his arms again, raising himself up off of the floor with a heavy exhale. 

Caractacus couldn't help himself, and he reached out to run his palm over Nevada's tattooed shoulder, tracing the intricate lines of dark ink under his skin down to where they ended above his elbow, then back up over the curve of his deltoid. It was nothing short of mesmerizing to watch as Nevada set a steady rhythm, the old artwork moving fluidly with him, shifting and stretching over taut muscle and dipping into valleys that sprang into sharp relief with each slow, calculated press of his palms against the floorboards. 

Hit with a sudden stroke of inspiration, Caractacus rolled onto his back and scooted under Nevada with the next push-up, tucking his head into the hollow of Nevada's neck and kissing him there. 

Nevada blinked in surprise and looked down at an upside-down Caractacus with amusement. "Don't you have work to do?"

"I'd rather watch you show off." Caractacus kissed the underside of Nevada's chin, nosing at the rough, day-old stubble below his neatly trimmed beard. "Don't let me stop you."

Nevada looked up to hide his smile, but Caractacus could see it in the line of his jaw. The upside-down, bottom-up perspective was remarkable, the tendons in Nevada's neck visibly tightening as he carefully lowered himself again, shoulders straining with the effort of keeping himself balanced over Caractacus. It was an oddly intimate position, but more than that it was comforting; a warm, solid body above him and two strong arms beside his head offering a welcome sense of security. 

Caractacus hummed and pushed himself further under Nevada, happy to be crushed slightly beneath his broad chest in exchange for a better view. He was very much in the way, interrupting Nevada's push-ups before he even made it halfway to the floor, but Caractacus had yet to be told off. He pressed his luck; gently running both palms up the back of Nevada's arms, his fingers dipping into the tight hollows between bicep and tricep, lingering for a moment, then continuing over his shoulders and along the muscles pulled tight across his ribs. 

Caractacus continued to inch his way towards Nevada's navel, undoubtedly making a nuisance of himself in the process but entirely unremorseful about it. His hands never left Nevada's body and he could feel a physical response to his light touches; tiny, involuntary twitches under his fingertips as he continued to stroke Nevada's heated skin. His hands wandered south, finding solid, sturdy hips, squeezing gently, then running back up over the tight muscles of his stomach. 

Nevada lowered himself again, his sternum pressing against Caractacus's nose and interrupting both his breathing and his roaming hands for a moment. Unbothered, Caractacus waited patiently for Nevada to push himself up again, then continued to trace his way along Nevada's belly, over his ribs and up to his broad chest. 

With his hands flat against Nevada's skin Caractacus could feel his chest working, flexing, filling his palms each time Nevada pushed against the floor and relaxing every time he eased himself back down. He began to knead absentmindedly at Nevada's muscles, the fingers of his left hand massaging the faded black lines that defined the outline of Nevada's pectoral and his right hand mirroring every stroke. Caractacus was so absorbed in what he was doing, admiring the way his fingers brushed coarse hair aside and sank into resistant muscle, that it took him several minutes to realize that Nevada had all but given up on his workout. He flushed, guiltily making eye contact and opening his mouth to apologize, but he was beaten to it. 

"Got something for you while you're down there," Nevada smirked, raising his hips just high enough that his cock brushed Caractacus's forehead.

Reluctant to let go of his chest, Caractacus tilted his head back to consider the unmistakable outline in Nevada's basketball shorts for a moment, then, unable to resist, wriggled closer. He slowly slid both hands back down to Nevada's waist to ease his shorts over his ass and down his thighs, revealing the familiar tattoo inside his hip, obliques standing out in deeper relief than usual from the strain of keeping his body stiff for so long, and a hard, waiting cock in need of attention. 

Caractacus didn't hesitate, opening his mouth to lick the precome from Nevada's slit with a slow, teasing swipe of his tongue. He found himself choking almost instantly as Nevada took advantage and thrust into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and staying there for a long moment before withdrawing to let Caractacus draw in a deep breath. He took another careless thrust, several thick inches of shaft at once, and Caractacus hummed happily, the familiar taste of Nevada only making his mouth water for more. 

He was hard, and had been for some time, but Caractacus couldn't have been less occupied with his own straining erection. He had no need to touch— Nevada's pleasure was doing more for him than a hand could, and he was happy just to let his body react. Each pulse and throb and salty rush of precome over Caractacus's tongue had him responding in kind, his cock drooling and twitching in his boxers, leaving slick, wet patches that soaked through the thin fabric in seconds. 

Nevada wasn't in a particularly patient mood, nor was he making any attempt to hide that fact. Caractacus was managing as best he could, gasping and occasionally choking as the blunt head of Nevada's cock continued to batter the back of his throat. He was used to rough, and this was nothing short of lenient compared to the regular face-fuckings that Nevada was in the habit of dealing out, but the unfamiliar position was tripping him up. He'd gotten good— _really_ good— at throating Nevada's considerable girth, but as relaxed as he was, the angle kept Nevada from penetrating his airway. The back of his throat was sore from use, his jaw aching, but Caractacus continued to take Nevada's cock with enthusiasm, choking and moaning happily around his mouthful. 

Nevada gave him an unusually forceful thrust and Caractacus bucked in surprise, the resulting wave of pleasure making him squirm on the floor as his belly tightened and his entrance twitched in anticipation. His hands found Nevada's waist again and pulled, encouraging him to thrust harder and deeper, and Nevada was quick to take the hint. He gripped himself tight, a fist around the base of his shaft keeping him rock hard as he pushed his way to the back of Caractacus's throat again and set a fast, hard rhythm.

 _This_ was the level of roughness that Caractacus was used to; Nevada fucking his mouth at a bruising pace, mercilessly shoving himself against that tight ring of muscle over and over as if he could brute force his way inside. Caractacus's fingers were scrabbling for purchase on Nevada's body as he sped up and he was starting to gasp for air; short, sharp breaths between the erratic jerks of Nevada's hips. 

Nevada came with no warning, and Caractacus was unprepared for the warm come that flooded the back of his throat in thick spurts. He gagged and sputtered, Nevada's release leaking from his nose and the corners of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving and eyes teary. Nevada gave him two more hard thrusts, sending more come dribbling down his chin, before he slowly pulled out and wiped his messy cock on the side of Caractacus's face. 

" _Fuck_ ," Nevada groaned, wincing as he pushed himself to his knees. " _Ay_ , let me go."

Caractacus didn't even realize that he'd been holding on to Nevada's shorts for dear life until he uncurled his stiff, aching fingers. Still a bit dazed, he mumbled an apology and reached blindly in Nevada's direction in search of a moment or two of skin-to-skin contact.

Nevada flopped onto his back with a groan, out of breath and visibly shaky. He grabbed a fumbling Caractacus around the bicep and hauled him across the floor to lay next to him. " _Shit_."

"Yeah," Caractacus agreed, his voice rough to his own ears. 

"You're in trouble in about twenty minutes, you know that?" Nevada gave himself a nudge to illustrate his point, pushing his half-hard cock from left thigh to right and directly into a pool of his own cooling come. He looked down at the mess drying on his lower belly with a grimace and shook his head. "I need a fucking shower."

"Hmm, me too," Caractacus nestled himself snugly between Nevada's arm and his body despite the fact that both men were covered in bodily fluids and all but stuck to the floor. "In about twenty minutes."

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to [message](https://fuckerao3.tumblr.com/ask) or [DM](https://www.tumblr.com/message/fuckerao3) me with questions, suggestions, or requests (no promises), or if you'd like to beta!


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